Heavier Than a Teardrop
by also known as LuLu
Summary: Who has the right to decide the weight of a burden? Only the person who experienced it firsthand.


_Disclaimer: _Love Hina belongs to Ken Akamatsu. I'm just borrowing.  
  
_Author's Notes_: This story has been sitting on my hard drive for six months now without it being touched; I thought it was about time I posted it. It's a sidestory to episode three, specifically the moment when Motoko is on the stairs (this is a brief recap for those who don't remember the episode well) and wondering why she reacts the way she does around Keitaro. She quickly dismisses a thought before the old men suggest "love" to her. This fic is the thought Motoko might have dismissed. For a thought, I realize it's long, but hey, I adore Motoko and she did a lot of thinking in that episode ^^; I'd really like feedback on this since this is the first LH fic I've ever done, and it was very difficult for me to write.   
  
(And if I spelled "aneue" wrong, PLEASE let me know ^^; I was doing it phonetically.)  
  


_Heavier Than a Teardrop_  


  
A male manager!?  
  
This can't be!  
  
I can't believe Naru-senpai would abuse the trust I put in her like this. The new manager…a man. And not just any man. A sneaky, horrible, lecherous man. Even if he _is_(1)a Toudai student, there's no excuse!  
  
I can already count on two hands all the things I've found him doing since I came home from Raika Training Camp. He has hit on me with his two perverted friends. He has improperly touched me while in my uniform. He has walked in on me while doing my laundry. He has made a peeping hole in the ceiling of his room. He uses this peeping hole to spy on Naru-senpai, possibly the others as well. He embarrasses the name of manhood and the name of Hinatasou.  
  
Aneue, how could you let him do this?  
  
…Aneue? Where did that come from? This was Naru-senpai's decision, not my older sister's. I've barely even spoken to my sister since I made my decision to leave Kyoto.   
  
I remember that spring day well. She was upset, of course, when I announced it. It was my job to take over the dojo after she married that man. That afternoon, she stood on the platform before me with her bird on her shoulder, scolding me, trying to convince me to stay as I was on the edge of leaving.  
  
  
_"Motoko, you're making the wrong choice." Tsuruko's arms were folded firmly over her chest, a disapproving frown crossing her face.   
  
"Aneue, this is something I have to do," the younger sister said, standing tall but still sounding shaky in her sister's strong presence.   
  
"Do you think you'll get better where you're going?"  
  
"You read about how superior their kendo program is yourself."  
  
"You can get the exact same things by training in Kyoto!"  
  
"I need this, aneue. I need the challenge of new surroundings to hone my skills."  
  
"If you fail, you'll bring shame to the family."  
  
"If I bring shame to the family," Motoko said with a careful wisdom her sister had seldom seen before, "it will not be because I failed, but because I was afraid to try."  
  
Behind them, the train whistle sounded.  
  
"I have to go, aneue," she said. Without another word, she picked up her suitcase and boarded the train.  
_  
  
Her features are still clear in my mind as when I saw them from the window at my seat. She was stony, unfeeling with the realization that she had failed in controlling me. I turned away as her husband, who had waited further behind, approached and embraced her, his turned back hiding her face from me. The only thing I knew beyond doubt was that she was not crying.  
  
What I told my older sister that day was not the whole truth. I _did _want to sharpen my art, yes, and I did want to meet the tests of a new environment, but…but…  
  
But three years after she got married, I could no longer stand seeing his face.  
  
  
_"Motoko-chan!" His voice traveled clearly into the kendo room where the girl was practicing.  
  
Motoko turned to look at him, standing in the doorway. Tsuruko's young, handsome fiancée had come to stay at the dojo for the weekend; the two were to be married in less than a month and he wanted to spend 'quality time', as he called it, with her family before then. Everyone had taken to him right away, especially their parents. He was kind, affable, and polite to the Aoyamas and all visitors to the dojo. Motoko, even in her tomboyish youth, could easily see why her precious older sister loved this man, and she hoped that with Tsuruko's marriage, she could become a fit heir to the Aoyama dojo, to make not only her parents proud but her sister as well.  
  
"Is aneue with you?" she asked with a bright smile; her practice sword was still held high in the air from pausing in the middle of a technique she was refining.  
  
"Ah…no, Motoko-chan…" he told her a little clumsily, "She's out with a few friends, looking for bridesmaid's dresses."  
  
"Oh." Motoko finished the move she had been in the middle of swiftly, bringing the sword down in one razor-sharp motion. "When will she be back?"  
  
"Later this afternoon…"  
  
"Are you going to watch me for the remainder of my practice?" she asked. She saw him blink; he wasn't used to ten-year-old girls like Motoko speak so formally, she noticed. "Otou-sama wasn't able to train me today, so I'm working on my own."   
  
"I'd like to watch." He approached her slowly. "Tsuruko told me you're very good at this."  
  
"Usually, if you're an observer, you sit on the sidelines…" Motoko mumbled uneasily as he touched the tip of her practice sword. Something about this did not feel right.  
  
"Do you ever use a regular sword?" he asked, letting his hand travel down the 'blade' towards the hilt. To avoid his hands, Motoko dropped the practice sword abruptly. It hit the dojo floor with a clatter, but he took no notice, his hands moving closer to her body. "I think it would help."  
  
"No," Motoko said, but she was not answering his question.   
  
"Is something wrong?" he asked, touching her cheek, then her neck.  
  
Everything about this did not feel right. "I'll tell otou-sama and aneue."  
  
"No one will find out, Motoko-chan…" he told her, tugging at her sleeve.  
  
"I'll tell them," she repeated. He tugged at her clothing again. "I'll tell them and they'll never forgive you."  
  
A glint of anger presented itself in his eyes as his hands moved. "If you weren't acting so difficult, Motoko-chan," tug, tug, " you'd see that this is no big deal." One last tug, and now he was removing his own clothing. "We'll be brother and sister soon too, so we should show our affection for each other, shouldn't we?" She opened her mouth to protest, but this time no words came out. "That's right, that's a good girl…" he told her. "Now, stay still…"  
  
Motoko shut her eyes so tightly she thought she would never see again and bit her bottom lip until it bled.  
_  
  
His hands upon me…everything he did…I feel incurably unclean at the very memory. I cannot speak of everything he did. Only a few weeks later, aneue, I remember, you married that man, not knowing who he truly was, the horrible, disgusting, despicable man he was, and the inner hell truly began. Whenever you were with him, whenever you mentioned him, it stirred horrors in me I can barely articulate, ones that haunted me every waking moment and in my dreams as well. _That _is why I left home, aneue, and the reason for so many things I've decided since then.  
  
It is the reason why the school I go to has no men. It is the reason why I chose all-female Hinatasou as my new home after moving away from the dojo. It is the reason why I cut off contact with you after moving. Why is everything being ruined now with the arrival of that stupid kanrinrin!? I didn't want to remember this.  
  
Aneue, why did you let him do it? How could you let him do it?  
  
Once, before you married him, you told me that shedding a tear is the worst thing I could do as an heir to our family's dojo. You said it is the most unforgivable thing, something that haunts you as an element of pure weakness. But aneue, I've learned since then, and I know now that your words are not right. A tear is not the worst thing I carry deep inside of me. I've cried many times since leaving Kyoto. That alone is proof. Because, you see…aneue…  
  
This burden of that man and his actions…is heavier than any teardrop I ever could have shed.  
  


---------  


  
  
(1)At this point, the cat hasn't been let out of the bag about Keitaro lyring about being a Toudai student.  



End file.
